(The emblem has been downloaded from the internet.)
Watermelons and mangoes are true summery treats and thankfully my 21 month old enjoys them as much as I do. Summers always meant mangoes, melons, my birthday, holidays and swimming. At least till I went through the summer of 2012.That was the summer when I lost my first daughter, she would have been almost 4 by now – If she had survived.
But she did not. She died in my womb at 21+ weeks and stayed dead in me till 25+ weeks (that's when we found out). Her little lifeless body had been decaying in my womb for almost 4 weeks before we got to know that she was no more. For 28 days I had conversations with a corpse not knowing that it was so, building dreams for almost 672 hours more or less. Thinking of names and telling myself that the worst is over.
The worst- At my 20th week detailed ultrasound the doctor thought that there was something wrong with my baby. We were advised an invasive test which we chose to undergo. We got an appointment for the test a week later. This was anyway too late for an amniocentesis. We were told that there was a 1% chance that we lose a perfectly normal baby because of the test. Like everyone, we too believed that we would never be that 1%. We were wrong.
It was a genetic test and there were 2 reports expected. One, testing a few chromosomes was to come in a week's time and the second, that tested all the chromosomes in 3 weeks.
Four days of complete bed rest after the test did not help my anxiety about the results. My 30th birthday came before the results did and my family put in a lot of effort to make it special and 'normal' under the given circumstances. They organised a little picnic dinner and my husband planned a day full of surprises, even after being exactly in the same boat as me.
One week of anxiety later the 1st report came clear. there was nothing genetically wrong with my baby. We were all thrilled and almost relieved as the 1st result was the most important one. The 2nd report followed the same path as the 1st, all was good. We were all happy beyond measure and thought that the worst was behind us. We were thrilled that we were having a perfectly normal healthy baby which we now knew because of the test results.
When I went to collect the reports, the doctor explained everything in detail and said that he would recommend a Fetal Echocardiography, just as the last step for the tests. We were hopeful and sure that there was nothing wrong with the baby, yet we obviously followed the doctor's recommendation and scheduled the Fetal echo at a hospital where I had trained/worked for close to a year. We knew it was just a tick mark that had to be marked off the list.
On the day of the appointment, we had to wait for a long time before our turn finally came for the echo to begin. A few junior cardiologists along with the senior checked us. They asked me several questions about the baby's movements, like when was the last time I felt them and how often etc. I said I couldn't be sure since this was my first pregnancy but maybe I felt them a few days ago. We were then asked to wait just outside the door. The exam room wasn't a full cabin but merely a semi partition made out of wood. We sat on a bench just outside, completely anxious and trying to overhear the conversation inside the cabin which was a piece of cake considering it was just a partition dividing us.
We heard-
Doctor 1, accusingly- "This women can't even tell us when she felt the baby move the last time."
Doctor 2, even more accusingly- "Doesn't she know that her baby doesn't really move?"
Doctor1-"How can she not know anything about her own baby?After all it is inside her!"
Doctor 2- "These so called educated patients can't even give us correct information but they expect correct treatment. "
Doctor 1- "How can a woman not know?"
And that's when I walked out. I wanted to go in and scream at the doctors, telling them that me and my husband weren't deaf. I wanted to tell them that they being doctors did not mean that other humans were lesser or deserved no sensitivity. But my pain and shock of the news were much greater than my anger. My disbelief about what I had just heard was bigger than my humiliation. My tears were faster than my voice and somewhere subconsciously I decided to literally shove what I had just heard into the deep recesses of my mind, to be dealt with later.
I didn't realise that it was so deep that it would take 4 years to surface.
As if going through the turmoil that we did for the past month wasn't enough. The uncertainty, the doubts and pain weren't enough, we got humiliation too, that too by the very people whom we trusted with taking care of us.
So I want to say this to you Dear Doctor-
Dear Doctor(s),
I know you see a hundred patients a day, some even more, and it would be very stressful and tiring. I respect you for all the hard work you have put in to reach where you have. I am thankful for all the help you provide to your patients. I truly believe that your profession gives you an edge over a non-doctor, you know the art and science of saving lives.
I also know that for some of you apart from the above being true, the patient is just a case, just a file or just a few symptoms on a body. A statistic or just a number but remember that this person is also just a human. They need your help now just like you will need their help later in some other format.
Patients may be in pain, they may have come to you after getting unhopeful answers from 10 others, still holding on to that one straw of hope that you may provide. Maybe you don't have a cure but at least you must have humility. May be you can't give them a solution but you can show them sensitivity. How you convey a fact changes the way the patient deals with the verdict. If I had heard the same 2 doctors tell me that I had lost the baby almost just after the test and maybe I did not notice the movement because I did not know what to expect, it would have been slightly easier. The pain may not have reduced but I would not be sitting infront of my laptop 4 years hence and still thinking about my experience and still reliving the pain.
I truly believe that you deserve each penny you charge as your fees. There can be no price tag to human life and through your work you save what is priceless. Please charge more if you think you deserve more. As a patient, I would always enquire about your fees and then take an appointment if I find it affordable.
A fees is fair, no matter what the amount but please don't prescribe unnecessary medicines just because they help you go on an all expense paid exotic holiday at the end of the year. A fees is fair but please don't order tests that are not required just because they give you a percentage out of what I pay the lab. A fees is fair but please don't convert me into a needless referral for your 'friend' because he\she needs a new car.
Dear doctor I know that your work is very stressful and maybe you don't get time for a personal life. May be you do have a personal life but it suffers a lot because of your work. I can never thank you enough for it. I can not even begin to imagine the kind of sacrifices that you must have made to reach where you are. I know it is tough but please do not punish your patients for it. Please don't let a patient cry in pain when you have what can help him just because the patient or one of his relatives has hurt your ego by asking for a senior doctor. Please understand that the patient and his family are here for your medical expertise. They may or may not be as sophisticated or worldly wise as you.
Like I said earlier, the human life is priceless. It is extremely precious, each one of our lives. My being monetarily rich or poor should not affect the care and attention you provide to me. Please pay as much attention to my case as you will to a rich man's.
Please charge for the the work that you do, not just for signing on my discharge summary after your subordinates may or may not have taken care of me.
Dear doctor, please remember that after all, you are too just a human. You will also need medical help sometime in life and imagine if you too go through all that I and others like me did and continue to do. Imagine being in the same boat as me!
